A Little Bit Wild
by the.goal.is.greatness
Summary: A lifetime is a lifetime whether it lasts one night or a hundred years. [Dean x OC]


**Title:** A Little Bit Wild  
**Genre:** Romance / Adventure / Supernatural  
**Rating:** M  
**Pairing:** Dean x OC  
**Spoilers:** N/A  
**Summary:** A lifetime is a lifetime whether it lasts one night or a hundred years.  
**Word Count:** 3,855  
**Warnings:** N/A

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Summary is an Alice Hoffman quote from _The Museum of Extraordinary Things_.

**A/N:** I know that Supernatural has done this before, but I don't care.

* * *

Day 1

Though to call it _Day 1_ implies that it is the first day of this freak fest and Dean isn't entirely sure that that's true. It's the first day that he _noticed_ something was a little fishy. It wasn't apparent – like Sam's _Heat of the Moment_ wake-up call, so it took him a while to get the pattern. It didn't help that they were stuck in this middle-of-nowhere small town in rural Nebraska that was about as far from civilization as could be. They had really good pie though, so that was something. They'd split up when they got here, both spending their days researching what had brought them here: strange growing patterns in the plants and animals.

People here were Pleasantville levels of nice. Like, Stepford Wives, shit. Every morning the mailman said hello to them. So did the grocer and the kids playing hopscotch and the guy driving his tractor down the road. Sometimes it was a crossing guard, sometimes it was a guy herding his cattle across the road. A little different, a little the same, nothing too shady.

But then the mailman says hello and Dean goes, "They even bring the mail on Sunday here. Man, they _must _be bored."

And Sam gives him a blank look. "Man, it's Thursday."

Dean's eyes go vacant with thought. What day had they gotten here on? Tuesday? Or was it Thurday? … Maybe it was Wednesday… Ah, crap…

* * *

Day 4

He thinks he knows what he has to do. Without tipping Sam off (not like he'll remember anyway – he's pretty much letting Sam still go about his day), he finds out that out of all the animals that have been affected (horses, sheep, dogs, chickens – your run-of-the-mill farm stock), snakes are the most noticeable. They're not dying, like _at all_. They're not turning up with their blood drained or mutilated or beheaded or heartless. They're _thriving_.

And, according to the farmers, it's _creepy_.

When Deans asks exactly why, he gets a vague answer. "Well, I don't rightly know," Farmer Joe (or whatever his name is), squints at Dean. "This time of year, animals is normally gettin' thinner, what with the crops not really growing and them being mostly foragin' for themselves."

"Uh-huh…"

"But they ain't."

Dean is skeptical. "Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

Farmer Joe shrugs. "Well yeah it is, but when animals are acting like they're living life two seasons ahead of the rest of us folk, it's a little freaky."

Dean blinks. Bingo.

So he starts researching time deities. He rules out the Trickster – there's nothing amusing happening here that has his stink on it. So something seasonal? Or time related. That was a place to start.

* * *

Day 7

Dean loses his mind a little and just goes and shoots all the snakes he can find in town. Maybe they're possessed. Maybe they're gods, he doesn't know. But pie or no pie, he wants to leave.

It doesn't work out though. The minute the last snake is on his way to snake heaven, Dean immediately wakes up for another day.

* * *

Day 10

Progress. Dean is in town late in the evening and over hears a conversation at the next table.

"Poor thing, such a shame." The elderly woman sips her tea and shakes her head. "She was so young. And to die in a freak accident like that!" She clicks her tongue. "What a tragic thing."

Dean's ears perk up at 'freak accident' and he shifts his position so he can watch and listen more closely.

"What her poor mama must be going through!"

"Oh I know! Vi is – was her whole world! Such a miracle baby, with regards to how she came here." The ladies exchange some conspiratorial looks and Dean steps in.

"Excuse me, ladies, couldn't help but overhearing." He flashes them his most charming smile. "My brother and I are new to town and, well forgive me for saying this, but your little town seems dangerous."

And that's pretty much all they need to unload a boat-load of small town drama onto a total strange. Vidette "Vi" Hamilton had been born out of wedlock to her mother (for shame!) when her mother was the ripe old age of 32 – a spinster in this town. The scandal basically meant the pair of women were always the center of gossip, especially since no one could figure out who the girl's father was, and the mother wasn't telling. But as scandalous as it was, the town loved Vi. She was a bright, charming girl and though she was heading towards spinster-hood herself (being 28), everyone adored her. And for her to be struck down by a drive-by shooter...

"Things like this don't happen here!" Old Lady 1 looked scandalized, and Old Lady 2 nodded in agreement. "There hasn't been a murder here in…" she gropes her memory, "why in over 20 years! Not since little Bobby Ray went crazy and killed his old man with a shovel!"

Well okay then…

He thanks them, leaves, and decides he might as well try and save her, see if that helped.

* * *

Day 12

Vidette is… not what Dean expected. He knew what the old biddies had _said_, that everyone loved her – but, geez, it didn't take a heart surgeon to stand out in a crowd here. He watched a man drive his tractor into a lake just yesterday. To see if it would work.

But Vidette, hell, she'd stand out in a city big or small. He didn't know who her daddy was either, but maybe he left her some good ass jeans, because _damn,_ her ass looked _good_ in them jeans.

"Are you Vidette Hamilton?" Dean asks abruptly, clearing his throat and forcing his gaze upwards. When she stands out of her crouch and turns he knows he's staring, but he can't help it.

Her skin is caramel – some combination of being in the sun and just being naturally that color – the color of a macchiato when you stir the milk and espresso together. He would say her hair and eyes were brown, but they weren't, not really. Her hair was honey-brown, her eyes were – he didn't know, not brown though. They were like –

"That's me!" She smiles, eyes crinkling just a little at the corners. Her features are movie-star perfect, in the way that movie stars you really hate for how effortlessly flawless they look. "What can I do ya for?"

Dean's mind, always one step in the gutter, takes a brief detour at that, thinking of _all kinds _of ways to keep her busy until the time of her aforementioned death occurred. "Uh – oh," he flashes his badge. "I was just checking in on a tip, ma'am. Has anyone threatened your life recently?"

Though she remains looking at him, her eyes shutter and close off. "No, of course not!" He's only known her for five minutes and he can tell that she's lying.

"Look, miss – "

"You must have the wrong Vidette Hamilton!" He arches a brow at her, staring at her blankly. Really? She deflates. "Yeah, okay, you probably don't, but – look I don't know who called in a tip, maybe it was my mom, I don't know, but it's really fine."

"Look, Miss Hamilton – "

"Vi."

He nods. Whatever. "Look, _Vi_, I have it on the best authority that someone is going to try and kill you tonight."

She blinks. "What?"

"So can we stop this little charade? Who wants to kill you?"

She looks incredibly confused. "I – I really don't know."

He sighs. "Well is there somewhere we can go so I can look out for you for a while?"

"My apartment, I guess."

Dean is _not_ thinking about where that could go. He is thinking about leaving this town. He is not thinking about beds and sheets and clothing falling to the floor. And he is definitely _not_ thinking of grasping fistfuls of that honey-brown air in sinking his face into the curve of creamy shoulder as he sinks his –

"That sounds fine."

If his voice comes out strangled, she doesn't comment.

It doesn't matter anyway. He falls asleep on Vi's couch at midnight, and wakes, precisely at 8, back in his motel room with Sam.

* * *

Day 17

He plans and he plans and he plans. When he thinks he's planned enough, he plans some more. But one thing he doesn't plan for is when he finally goes up to Vi days later with his masterplan and she says, "Hey there Detective, I was beginning to think you'd just let me die."

* * *

Day 18

It takes Dean legitimately an entire day to wrap his head around the situation. "So you know today has been today for like, three weeks?" She nods. "And you know that you're dying?" Another nod. "You die every day?"

"Well, no – I didn't die that day you came to my apartment."

"But the day is repeating anyway."

It's not a question, but she answers anyway. "Yeah."

"Any idea why?"

Her eyes slid away from his. "Guess we missed something."

"Hey," his hand on her wrist is insistent, but not threatening. "I need all the cards in the deck to play for a winning hand, girlie."

She isn't looking at him. "You won't believe me."

"Try me."

Another long silence. "I'm sure you've heard the gossip about my mother."

"Gossip? What gossip – "

"Don't play dumb, you're not cute enough for that." She's talking before he has a chance to get offended. "Well, it's not that we don't know who my father is, it's that people wouldn't believe us if we told them." She sighs. "You wouldn't know it to see her now, but my mom was once a world renowned scientist studying worm holes and the theory of time travel. A physicist." Dean had seen the shell of a woman her mother was, so he didn't believe it. "She attracted the attention of someone else who was very interested in time…"

"Well don't leave me holdin' my breath here!"

"Shai." When he looks blank, she elaborates. "He is an Egyptian… deity." She seems to be waiting for him to object, but when she doesn't, she continues, with a puzzled glance in his direction. "He controls people's fates – measures their lives. He… he loved my mother a little, for her mind, but she… she had no room for anything but him. And then I was born and I was like a little piece of him, so she made room for me."

"And dear old daddy?"

"Well, time is different for him. Mom – he's fond of her, I'm sure, but she's only human. And I'm… not totally that."

He thinks for a moment. "Okay, so since dad is the god of fate or time or whatever I guess that makes since why the crops and animals are all living life perfectly content and aren't affected by this Groundhog Day. But what the hell is up with the snakes?"

She blinks. "My father is the snake-headed god." When she stops, she's staring at her hands, waiting for him to deny when she's saying, to tell her that's impossible, that bother her and her mother are crazy.

"Well thank God, I thought this was gonna turn out being that fucker Gabriel again."

She starts and starts to look up. "The angel?"

He's shrugging as he answers, "He's really an ass, take my word for it." He smiles. "Dean Winchester, at your service," and he holds out a hand for her.

When she takes it and smiles at him hesitantly, he suddenly realizes what her eyes remind him of: the gears of a clock.

* * *

Day 23

The next few days pass in a confusing whirlwind. Vi doesn't get murdered anymore, but the day doesn't ever move forward so… pros and cons.

Dean's drinking his way through a six-pack out in Vi's parking lot, when there's a bright flash of light that for a moment he thinks it's a car turning in the complex, but realizes a second later that it's a door of reality opening and – Jesus Christ, is that a giant _snake_ coming out?!

He scrambles backwards, groping for his gun, when a voice stops him cold.

"Peace, mortal, I mean you no harm." The snake can _talk_?! "I am Shai." Dean blinks, peering into the light. As it begins to fade, the form solidifies into a man, tall and dark skinned, wearing a loin cloth and a huge golden chest piece. It does not look ridiculous.

"Vi's dad?"

He smiles benevolently. "Indeed." He gestures at Dean to stand, which he does, gripping his gun like a lifetime. Shai notices, but says nothing. "I request a boon of you, Dean Winchester."

Dean blinks. "Listen, pal, I don't like getting mixed up in gods and Nephilim and shit, so whatever it is –"

"Save my daughter."

He blinks again. "Wait, are _you_ doing this?" He had thought that Vi had some latent creepy powers from being a god-child and was maybe resetting her own life after she kicked the bucket, but couldn't figure out why time had continued when he saved her.

"My daughter's life is in danger, and until the person who would do her harm has been vanquished, there will be no rest for her." He frowns. "I am forbidden from directly interfering with the life of my child. I wish you to do so on my behalf."

"And just who is stopping you from helping your own kid?"

"Ra."

Well, even _Dean_ knows who that is so he just ignores it. "And do you know who's after her?"

"There are sects of all the major religions of the current world that know secrets that humans are not ready for. One of the individuals from a sect has decided to wipe out all the demi-gods he can find. He has, to date, murdered eleven. My daughter will not be the twelfth." His voice rumbles and the ground shakes. No one comes screaming out of the building, so Dean assumed it's localized.

"If I save her, my life goes back to normal?"

"On my honor, mortal I do so swear."

* * *

Day 27

At least he doesn't have to worry about Sam wondering where the fuck he is, since his day resets every morning. He might wonder where Dean was during the day, but he's forget about in the morning. Which was good since he was basically living with Vi. And it was really starting to through him. He was rarely this close to anyone, save his brother. He didn't usually know how someone took their coffee, or that they would use all the hot water if given the chance, or that they sang while they cooked. He didn't get asked, "Does this outfit look okay?" (it did) or "Where should go for dinner?" (anywhere with pie) or "Mind if I watch Sexy M.D?" (he didn't, but he pretended he did).

"We're out of milk. And talk to the cop on the corner of Main Street on your way back."

What a weird turn his life took.

The cop didn't know anything, and instead of picking up milk, Dean actually went to a bar and had a few shots of whiskey and was really regretting that when he walked into the apartment at one in the morning. He was wondering what kind of excuse he could dredge up to explain that when he stumbled into the living room.

There was something playing softly on the TV, but Dean wasn't paying attention to that. He was paying attention to Vi asleep on the couch.

She was wearing a pair of those super ridiculous girl pajamas that Dean secretly loved more than lingerie. It made women look relaxed and peaceful – and man look at the way those little shorts rode up. The long line of her leg, visible from ankle to upper thigh made Dead feel reckless with drink. He was reaching out before he could even think about it, and shit, it was so soft.

She gave a yelp at the contact, and startled out of sleep, shooting upwards, eyes wide. "What the – Dean? Wh- mmph!"

That was as far as she got, before his mouth crashed over hers.

There was a brief moment where he wondered if he was being too forward, too drunk, but then her head titled and her mouth slanted over his. With a groan, he sank into, leaning her back into the couch so he could feel her pressed underneath him, pliant and soft and wanting.

"Dean…"

Fuck, had anyone ever sounded so hot? When tentative fingers darted under his shirt, he hummed in approval and leaned back to pull it off. Now those hands were splayed against his back – nails grazing, pressing him closer. He kissed her harder, more forcibly, but she didn't seem to mind, even moaned into his mouth, rocking into him in a needy way that drove him crazy.

"You sure…" Don't let anyone ever say he wasn't a gentleman.

"Oh, gods, you idiot – yes!" She laughing, which would be kind of annoying given the situation, but it's making her squirm against him in a way that that is making it _really_ hard to concentrate. She pulls back, staring into his face, those clockwork eyes earnest. "Please."

Well, Dean Winchester never refused a lady.

When he reeled back, she seemed confused, but only for a moment. Grasping her by the thighs, he hoisted her up, letting her wrap those legs around him as he walked down the hall to tumble them into her bed. Clothing fell to the bedside in a muffled clutter, and then it was skin-to-skin and it was perfect. And when Dean buried his face in that smooth column of throat and sank into her the way he had imagined when he first saw her, he really wanted time to stop.

* * *

Day 32

After that, Dean wasn't really trying to solve the mystery. Every few days he would go and see Sam, who would tell him the same story about something he had found out about their original case. Some days Dean pretended it was knew information, some days he didn't. But it was nice to talk.

All the other days he spent with Vi. And it was… nice. It was movies on the couch and dinners on the town and researching and… talking. She had been reliving her death over and over before Dean showed up and Shai picked him to save her. Winner-winner chicken dinner. Dean didn't remember his Mystery Spot deaths but it was a similarity all the same. And he did remember his torture in hell.

In a different life, Dean would have probably killed her. She wasn't human. And a younger Dean would have known that made her dangerous. But now he knew better. There were slim shades of grey starting to bleed into his eyes, had been for years. And Vi fit right there in that sliver. A god-child, but a good person. Who could fix a car and cook a steak, who didn't like rock music (but everyone had faults) and thought cola was an acceptable beverage to drink with every meal.

He didn't want to go.

* * *

Day 45

It was an accident, really. He had been on his way back from the store (after picking up pie and beer – the essential food groups) when he felt the harsh press of a gun barrel in his lower back.

"Word around town is that you were seen with Vidette Hamilton this morning." The gun cocked with a click. "So I suppose I have to go through you to get to her."

"You're welcome to try." When the gun jammed harder against his spine, he practically sighed. Didn't criminals know that you weren't supposed to push the gun up against a person? It made it really easy to do this… And he spun to the side, his momentum turning the gun aside. Dropping his bag, he slammed a harsh blow into his assailant's wrist, and grabbed the gun when it fell with the other. Then Dean shot him, and the world shattered apart.

When he blinked awake, he was in the town square, Vi beside him. The world around them was hazy – not foggy, but like a camera filter, everything looked gauzy and dreamlike. The people around them, the cars, the birds, everything was frozen. Everything except for them.

She looked around, eyes whirling. "Father?"

Shai appeared in a flash of light and thunder that made Dean grit his teeth. He inched closer and closer to Vi.

"Well done, Dean Winchester. You have saved my daughter, and for that you have my gratitude." He smiled benevolently at her and she beamed back. "With the man who would do her harm deceased, I can place a geis on her to repell similar fates from befalling her." He stared at Dean, his eyes swirling with infinite timelines. "She will be safe forever."

Dean had an inkling where his was going, and he didn't like it. "So where does that leave me?"

"I owe you a boon, Hunter, you may call it in any time you ask." He gestured to his daughter. "Come, child – "

"Wait, father, I – " Vi glanced from the god to Dean and back again. "Can't – can't I stay here – with… with Dean?"

Shai seemed unsurprised by the request. "I am sorry, child. But my geis will only work on my own blood and without it you would be at risk the moment time starts moving again."

She turns to Dean with a frantic, but resigned look in her eye. "Dean – "

He holds up a hand, to quell the hallmark moment. "No, don't. You need to be safe. This is the way, right?" He smiles, lopsided and charming and accepting. "I –" He doesn't finish, because Vi runs into his arms with a sob, and he slants his mouth down over hers desperately.

"I will never forget this day." She murmuring against his lips, grasping at his jacket, but Shai is reaching out a hand towards her and Dean slams his eyes closed against the imagine. "I'll remember you for the rest of my life, Dean Winchester…" He can feel her starting to fade away, the geis taking hold. "However long that is…"

The sound of people talking makes him open his eyes, time is moving again, Shai is gone, there is nothing to hint at what had just happened.

"Dean!" He turns at the call of his voice and it's Sam, running up to him. "Hey, man, I thought you were tracking a lead – you okay?"

Dean takes one last look around. "Yeah, I'm okay." He can still smell her perfume and taste her lips. "I'll be okay… with time."


End file.
